Luyện nghe bài hát Buckledownknucklehead

I'm wearing clapped out shoes, making tunes, in my bedroom,
with a dead shirt, i would quit work, yes i said soon,
Its why I'm writing lyrics on the tube, while the dude, reading the news, over at my phone too,

With bars so heavy should anticipate,
besides i write them when i want, i make the paper wait,
i know this tune aint like the others, but its the risk i take,
i see what you're brother, but i can't relate,

so try get me with them dead jokes, it won't work,
the time you ever made a crease is on your shit shirt,
and nobody you,
I just your fucking life,
in a hiku,
and i even try too

so why would i act my careers a beast,
when the only plaque i earned year is on my teeth,
im not blown up and I'm famous,
but the sewn up in the craziest places

so buckledownknucklehead, you've only begun,
barely past the starting line stop that you've won,
got a long way to go, not time to show it,
stop starring at your cos you're about to blow it,

so while they spunk student loan,
I've been sat home alone,
and now I've grown, into i never really could have known was possible,
this dossers lost interest on all thats topical and new nights are the sights stuck up in my optical,

i know not mishearing me, but seriously,
my name is not ed see, I'm a man going about living his own dream,
and it be more likely,
if i stop singing his and he stops singing just like me,

so call me a cat wanker,
cos i master lines
them 8 times,
I'm having a time,
if don't rate mine,
they can hate fine,
but what hear on the grape vine, is I'm,

mesmorising, be warned,
redifining, warm,
and all the shit that comes out of my mouth is like a yawn,
and I've got diarrhoea, can't you hear,
so if i don't up today,
no way I'm waiting out next year

so buckledownknucklehead, you've only begun,
barely past the starting line thinking that you've won,
got a way to go, not much time to show it,
stop starring at your phone cos about to blow it,

you can see, as much as me, lyrically, its a little bit of a difficult time for me, and the words won't flow like they did recently,
but see I'm at it again, when I've focusing my mind and then i pick up a pen,

see i was told to write a hit, got to write a load of shit,
witten a of shit, but still no hit,
and now its too late,
cos I'm already stuck up in it, see i would go back to uni but my are nearly finished, and i love pub grub so much that when i go out wearing a shirt,
i tuck my gut in to thinner init,

in words I'm getting older,
and yet it feels like something they'd have ya,
but I'm,
level headed but my head is with the stars so I'm guess I'm saying I'm on the level as they are,
cos i to quit,
my mind don't,
that makes me an oxymoron cos my will let me

so buckledownknucklehead, only just begun,
barely past the starting line stop that you've won,
got a long way to go, not much to show it,
stop starring at your phone cos about to blow it,